Rivenholt
by kistukyo
Summary: Tristan is a fiery young mouse who dreams of a bigger world outside of the trading village of Rivenholt. When he is captured by Vellana, a vixen warlord from the northlands, he must learn responsibility if he ever wishes to save his home. In Progress R
1. Prolouge

It has been many seasons since the "Seasons of the Savage." I, Apprentice Jonas, am studying under the scrutinizing paw of our own Abbess Perrit. She is a fine teacher, patient with all my flaws, and shares a similar passion for a good story. She has allowed me to record a tale from the latter end of the "Seasons of the Savage"; a portion of such had been previously recorded in the records of our Redwall Abbey. This tale had come to our doors just last season by way of a strange fox named Inktail the Bard, who came by our abbey in search of a night's respite. In an attempt to repay our hospitality, Inktail proceeded to tell the tale of a mouse who came by to the abbey when I was but a dibbun. His name was Tristan Brighteyes


	2. Chapter 1

A warm breeze signaling the arrival of summer blew in from across Mossflower wood, into the trading village of Rivenholt. A young mouse, dressed in a turquoise tunic stood looking over Mossflower River. He watched the horizon like a falcon, for any sign of house rafts. His bright eyes looked out over the slower, wider; Broad River, and then he ran along the palisade wall to the northern gate, to peer across the faster, smaller Mossflower River. His whiskers twitched with excitement at the thought of seeing his otter friend, Rowan.

Tristan always loved when the Gathering time came. Traders, ferry-beasts and entertaining troupes from all over the eastern lands would congregate in Rivenholt. Three days of feasting and merriment and preparations for the moneymaking to be had. Tristan's watch was broken by a familiar voice calling his name.

"Tristan! Tristan! By the Fur, where did that lay about son of mine get to?"

It was his father, Wysan. A merchant mouse by trade, and was known as quite a ferry-beast in his younger days. Now age had taken a toll on the mouse. He could not clamber up the steps to the wall as fast as he could. Wysan mustered up another breath and shouted out another "Tristan!"

Tristan remembered the list of chores he had so eagerly decided to leave behind.

_"Fur and Claw, if I am caught skipping out on my chores, I will never hear the end of this."_ he thought as he snuck towards the steps that led back down to the solid ground. He ducked behind the step when he saw his father. A few more steps and he would be seen.

"Excuse me!" a voice from behind Wysan spoke. Tristan saw his father turn around to greet a dormouse, who from the way he was dressed, had come from the south.

"I wish to arrange passage downriver, and I heard that you are the best beast to talk to about that." Tristan sighed with relief.

"That dormouse just saved me a scolding" he whispered as he took two steps in the direction of his home. Suddenly his paws left the ground as he was lifted up by the collar of his tunic.

"Oi! Wysan! Look here what I caught here." Called out the gentile, yet booming voice of the badger maiden that held him up with one paw.

"I believe this is the knave you came bellowing into my home looking for." Wysan turned around. His dark eyes saw Kyrae, the Badger, holding up Tristan, who looked as guilty as sin. Wysan laughed a bit and sighed with relief as he excused himself from the dormouse. He made his way toward Kyrae.

"I do believe you have the sharpest eyes of any beast in Rivenholt, Miss Kyrae." Kyrae dropped Tristan just hard enough to jolt him. Tristan quickly scrambled to his feet, dusting himself off. His bright eyes then locked with the scowling eyes of his father.

"I suppose I owe you and Orlo another day of my son's time." Kyrae smiled the half-smile she was known throughout Rivenholt.

"If your son keeps this up, Orlo won't have to find a new apprentice. I bet a season of smith-work would do this young beast a world of good."

"That it may Kyrae." Wysan nodded nudging Tristan forward. "I guess I'll see you and your husband later tonight then." He said as he followed his son towards his home.

* * *

Rowan sat on the roof of _The Pike _his father's raft house. His deep blue eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of the gated walls. His brown fur rustled with the breeze that blew in from the west. His bright red vest shone brilliantly in the afternoon sun. Rowan's father, Lyro, had won the vest off of a fox clear back when he had just barely began traveling the Broad River on his uncle's raft house. Now Rowan wore it, as a good luck charm.

Lyro manned the helm, steering His vessel against the current of the Broad. His steely grey eyes darted back and forth from the river to the crew, like a swallow darting about in the dusk hours for insects. Four beasts pulled the vessel along with long poles. First was Rovaan, Rowan's older brother. The second was Julian Hollyhock, a Hedgehog who had deemed himself Honorary cook, claiming that Lyro would season the soup "so hot it would curl the very prickles on my back." The third beast was Tristan's uncle William, and the last was another otter names Justinian.

_The Pike_ rounded a small bend. Rowan's sharp eyes caught the palisade walls surrounding Rivenholt.

"Father! I see her! Rivenholt is up a few leagues ahead!"

"Well boy-o," his father shouted back, "call the gates open!" Rowan nodded with a smile as he took in a deep breath.

"BALLEY-HO! PORT-BOUND COMES THE PIKE! OPEN FOR LYRO BROADTAIL!"

* * *

Tristan's ears perked at the sound of his friends voice riding on the wind! He quickley turned around and would have promptly ran towards the gates, had his father not caught him on his shoulder.

"Hold fast, son. Your not going anywhere until you get the shop swept up and straightened out. You should be lucky I'm letting you come to the festival tonight at all." Tristan groaned and trudged back towards the shop.

~*~

**This is the first chapter of my very first fanfic (Kind of nervous) Chapters are added on my own time. Feedback is encouraged and appreciated so please R&R!**

**Thanks, kitsukyo  
**


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Daisyday Hollyhock's heart warmed as she heard Rowan's resonating call. She placed the last of her homemade apple pies on a cart and pushed the cart out of her home calling after her five little ones.

"C'mon lil' hogs. Father's comin' home! Jove, now don't run too far ahead. Rosie, don't pull on Stickle's ears. Urchin, Put that pie down! Stickle! Stop pulling your sister's snout! Furzie, you're old enough to walk on your own. Jove! We'll leave you if you don't hurry up. Urchin Hollyhock, Stop eating that pie! Rosie! Don't hit your brother! Touch another pie young hog, and you'll go to bed without any supper!"

Daisyday hardly recognized the town with all the strange beasts that flooded the town from all around. It was always like this every summer. Smiles spread along each little hogs face as otters were splashing out of canals and scrambling every which way. Mice and dormice; Hedgehogs and squirrels, even a hare or two, were all running around like ants on a leftover pie. This organized chaos caused Daisyday's head to spin. She looked down; hoping the noise and the crowds would vanish away. Then, her stomach sank like a stone. She had the oddest feeling that something wasn't quite right. She looked up and called out her little ones.

"Urchin?"

"Hm-mmf." he called through a mouthful of pie.

"Stickle?"

"Ow! Rosie!" he said, rubbing his snout where Rosie had flicked it with her claw.

"Rosie!"

"Ouch! Stickle!" she exclaimed rubbing her ribs where Stickle's elbow had over-earnestly nudged her side.

"Furzie?"

"Mummy…"whined a voice from behind.

"Jove?" No reply.

"Jovial?" still no reply. Daisyday began to worry. Ringing her paws, she thought, "Oh where could he be?" She desperately began calling out his name. It was no use. Her voice was lost in the din of every beast that scampered about preparing for the festival. No way could a day-dreaming hedgehog hear her in this crowd. She then thought of the Skipper. Yes, if any beast could find Jovial, it would be him. She pushed her cart and herded her remaining children through the crowd. She had to find the Skipper.

Skipper heard the gate call of his nephew. "That boy-o's got a good set o' lungs on 'im." he though as he stepped outside of his raft-house. He breathed the warm moist air of a summer's day with a blissful sigh. He smiled at the hubbub and commotion that always came with The Gathering.

It wasn't hard to recognize Skipper. He was nearly a head taller than the average otter in Rivenholt. His dark, brown fur was pock-marked with tan scars, badges of honor from his many battles with vermin raiders. He also had a long hairless scar that ran from an odd dimple on the top of his head clear down to the underside of his jaw on the left side of his face. He wore an eye patch to hide the missing eye. This was a grim reminder of just how lucky he was when fought a pike that had trapped itself inside the canals of Rivenholt.

He was just about to head off in the direction of the gatehouse, when he heard the worried voice of Daisyday behind him.

"Spikes and Snouts Skipper, if you ain't the hardest beast to find whenever he is needed." Skipper turned around and was greeted by a cart full of apple pies, surrounded by four young hedgehogs, whose moods where a medley of mischievousness, pain, bliss, and whiney. Daisyday walked around the cart.

"Why Marm, what be the pleasure of you seekin' out an old codger like me' self? You going 'round spreading scuttlebutt?"

"It's my lil' hog Jove, sir. I do believe I have lost him." She couldn't hold back the tears and she buried her face in her paws. "Oh, if anythin' happened to him, I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

Skipper carefully pulled her paws away from Daisyday's face, trying as best as he could to avoid her spines. "Don't fret Marm. I'll see to it that we find yer little 'og. You jus' wait an' see." Daisyday looked up with tear-filled eyes. She gently wiped them with her apron.

"Thank you kindly Skipper, sir." She said as she pulled an empty pie plate from Urchie's paws. Skipper turned around and called for Brook and Delphi, two young otter-maids, who smartly saluted the Skipper.

"Now you two best keep a storm eye out for a little 'edge'og wanderin' 'bout on 'is own. 'is name is Jove. If you see 'im. Let me or Miss Daisyday know." The otter-maids nodded, and then walked off, nudging their way through the crowd.

"You'll see Marm," Skipper smiled reassuringly at Daisyday. "Brook an' Delphi have some of the best eyes of any otter in Riven'olt. They'll spot your little 'og in no time at all."

Lyro gently steered _The Pike_ through the gates of Rivenholt. He was truly master of the vessel as he guided the raft-house through the narrow canals. Rowan waved from the roof of the raft-house at the young beasts that ran alongside the raft-house. _The Pike_ sailed into the pond that made up the centre of Rivenholt.

"Steady her up mates!" Barked Lyro. "Prepare to dock and go shore side." _The Pike_ slowed to a stop. The pole-beasts grunted with effort as they pushed and pulled against the poles. Lyro turned the wheel and _The Pike_ turned slowly and faced a bit of pond that was next to Skipper's raft-house. Then, slowly, she began to edge forward in the water.

"Steady her in, mates. Mind the starboard side there William! Rowan! Get down here and help ol' Julian with his pole." Rowan climbed down the ladder and ran over to the pole where the hedgehog pulled, nearly airborne. He placed his paws above Julian's.

"Mind them spines, sir." Rowan chuckled as he pulled with the hedgehog.

"Mind yerself there river-whomper!" said jokingly. _The Pike_ eased slowly into the space next to Skippers houseboat. Lyro, bounded off of the boat into the arms of his mate, Lilly. They embraced and she kissed his cheek. She then embraced her sons as they finished anchoring the raft-house. Justinian also bounded ashore, embracing his mate. Lyro then clasped paws with Skipper, his brother.

"Y'old fool." Remarked Skipper. "I see you haven't sunk her yet, matey. Stayin' away from the rocks now are we?"

Lyro barked out a hearty laugh. "Jus' as long as you keep away from those pikes."

The joyful reunion was pierced by a squelching scream for help; the otters looked to where the sound had come from. There in the middle of the canal, floundered a young hedgehog. He was struggling to keep his head above the water, helplessly flailing his paws about. Through coughing and sputtering he yelped.

"Mummy. Daddy. Help!"

"JOVE! My son!" Julian shouted "He can't swim!"

Before Skipper could say a word, a flash of red dove from the bank into the canal. It was Rowan; The young otter beat the water with his powerful tail, kicking his way towards the drowning little hedgehog. Jove tired out and he sank. Deep into the canal.

There was a splash as two heads broke the surface of the water, sputtering. Rowan pulled on one paw and then another, slinging the young Jove across his back.

"Hold tight to me tightly now!" Rowan said, reassuring Jove. "It'll be ok." Rowan gently kicked, swimming towards the bank. When he got there, Julian reached down and plucked the precious cargo from the back of the otter.

"Jove! By the fur, your alright!" Julian hugged his son tightly. Daisyday came running, grabbing young Jove from within her husband's prickles, cuddling her found son.

"Oh, you're safe! Don't you ever run off again."

Meanwhile, a fox, which was passing by, held out a paw to young Rowan. Rowan's firm paws gripped the fox's. He pulled himself up with ease.

"'tis a brave thing you did there, otter." the fox said fawningly.

"'twas not a lot." Rowan responded modestly "Any otter'd dive after any beast a'drownin'. Is what's right."

"of course." Said the fox, his eyes focusing on the red jacket.


End file.
